


i’ve got a mouth to put you in your place

by angejolras



Series: prompts [17]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, but it might as well be, just barely a lawyers au tho LMAO, meet cute except not, not trapped in an elevator per se
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:24:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21510274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angejolras/pseuds/angejolras
Summary: It’s going to be a long-ass elevator ride.
Relationships: Enjolras/Éponine Thénardier
Series: prompts [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/836706
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	i’ve got a mouth to put you in your place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadows_of_1832 (SaoirseVictoire)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaoirseVictoire/gifts).



> **prompt: i saw you trying to hit the “door close” button in the elevator but i made it in and then i pushed every single button to make you later for work, but now we’re stuck in this fucking elevator as it stops at every single floor and I don’t know what to say other than “you started it” au**

On the bright side, she isn’t _catastrophically_ late. She can make it upstairs to where she’s having her job interview and still have fifteen minutes or so to spare. It’s the small victories.

Éponine walks along the side of the office building, having been dropped off by an Uber and stops to look at her reflection in the window. She looks fantastic, sharply dressed in a fitted black suit and matching heels, her dark hair pulled up into a very professional high ponytail with thin strands artfully framing her face, makeup on point with a bold red lip and winged black eyeliner. She grins at her reflection, making finger guns at herself.

“You’re going to crush this, you sexy fucker,” she tells herself moments before realising that other people passing by are shooting weird looks her way and she must look like a fucking idiot to the people inside. Cheeks heating up, she quickly darts inside, holding her head up high and hoping nobody of importance noticed.

She makes her way to the elevators and of course the only one currently on that floor is on the verge of closing, with how the only person inside very obviously keeps hitting the close button, a look of absolute determination on his face, as if he’s got a vendetta against her personally. She narrows her eyes. Clearly, he’s late.

Without a second thought, she sprints to the elevator, practically risking her life due to her heels, and just barely makes it in, skidding inside. She shoves past the guy to press every single button to make him even later for work, temporarily forgetting how she herself is on the verge of tardiness. In a moment of weakness, her pettiness overtook her.

And it immediately comes back to bite her in the ass.

She and this other guy are the only two in the elevator, and the awkward silence is damn near painful as the elevator stops at every single fucking floor out of the thirty-five in the building. And she just so happens to be heading to the thirty-fourth floor.

It’s going to be a long-ass elevator ride.

After a while, she notices how the man beside her gives up on pressing the close button every time they come to a stop on the next floor and just sighs, looking up at the ceiling with a frown. She looks him up and down, sizes him up, biting her lip. He’s hot, there’s no denying that. Curly golden-blond hair, a nice jaw, striking blue eyes, a dimple in his chin. Fit, in both the British and American senses, Éponine can’t help but noting, and tall. He towers over her even with how she’s in heels.

Why are the hot ones always the assholes?

She’s not being fair, she knows. But there was _no_ need to be so determined to keep her out of the elevator earlier. Even though the rational part of her knows it was nothing personal.

She always did have a tendency to take things a little too personally.

Bless him, he still hasn’t noticed how she’s blatantly staring at him, at a loss for words. She has no idea what to say before the first words she can think of come tumbling out of her mouth. “You started it.”

He finally acknowledges her presence, eyebrows furrowing rather indignantly as he looks at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“Before I got in,” she says evenly, finding his blue-eyed gaze, which has become rather icy. Huh. He’s got really long eyelashes. “You kept pressing the close button!”

He stares at her like she’s suddenly sprouted a second head or something, utter disbelief and bewilderment and something akin to quiet seething etched into every muscle on his face. “I’m late for work. It was nothing personal.” He seems to want to say something else, but he bites it back.

Éponine narrows her eyes at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Sure seemed personal to me. I was the only one looking to get into an elevator.”

He just gives her a tight-lipped smile in response. “I didn’t even see you there.”

“Yes, you did, I saw you look.”

“I wasn’t looking directly at _you_!”

“It _looked_ like it!”

“My God, can you _be_ any more self-absorbed?”

Okay, that last one stings. A lot. Éponine’s gaze turns hard, glaring into his eyes. “I’m _sorry_ for wanting to make a good first impression on the day of my job interview by being _punctual_.”

He raises his eyebrows, saying wryly, “And you thought pressing every single button in the elevator and delaying us by at _least_ ten minutes was the best way to achieve that?”

He has a point, Éponine must begrudgingly admit.

She shoots him one last death glare before turning away, crossing her arms tightly across her chest and scowling. She wonders if the person observing the security camera footage is getting a kick out of her misery.

Alright, so it was mostly her fault. _Mostly_. He still started it. Even if her idea of retribution was, in hindsight, way disproportionate and over-the-top. But if she’s going down, at least he’s going down with her.

It’s ten more minutes until they reach the thirty-fourth floor, remaining alone together the entire way up for reasons Éponine cannot comprehend. (Maybe it’s the palpable tension in the air and the fact that they both have pained looks on their faces. Like they’re trying to pass a kidney stone.)

To her horror, he gets off on the thirty-fourth floor as well, surprise crossing his face when she steps out along with him. She forgot what floor he initially pressed the button for was, not having spared it a glance in her little fit of spite, and the entire way up, each time they stopped at a floor, she sorely hoped that maybe this would finally be where he got off. She was holding out hope that maybe he works on the topmost floor and she would, fingers crossed, never have to see him again after this.

The odds are clearly not in her favour this fine Thursday morning. She just hopes she doesn’t bomb this job interview. But does she really want to work at the same law firm as he does?

_Think of the money, Éponine. The_ money _. You and R won’t have to stress so much about rent anymore._

She really should have deduced that he’s a lawyer the moment she laid eyes on him. Maybe she _is_ that self-absorbed. Just a little.

The surprise on his face makes way for dawning horror at the realisation that he might actually have to work with her in the future. To his credit, he soon manages a straight face again. Neutral. Professional. Unreadable.

He glances at the clock and breathes a sigh of relief. He’s on time, if only barely.

Éponine’s about to completely ignore him as she brushes past before he speaks. “Good luck with your job interview.”

She tilts her head to the side, nose crinkled. She didn’t expect that. “Thank you?” She closes her eyes and cringes a little at the way her voice went up, making it sound more like a question.

He offers her a small smile then, and it completely throws her off. He’s got such a nice smile. Straight, pearly white teeth barely visible between his lips and slight crinkles at the corners of his blue eyes. He should smile more often. “I’m sorry about the elevator incident. I wasn’t trying to keep you out on purpose.”

Éponine’s cheeks grow warm. “I’m sorry too. For being a petty bitch.”

He laughs a little and it just throws her off even more. Fuck. He is too damn attractive for his own damn good. Without thinking, she asks, “What’s your name?”

He gives her a bit of a look then, curious, amused. “Enjolras. Gabriel Enjolras. And you?”

“Mine’s Thénardier, Éponine Thénardier,” she promptly replies, grinning. She may be making fun of his Bond-like way of introducing himself a little bit. “Well, to be frank, it wasn’t very nice to meet you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Likewise.”

She walks past him then, accidentally on purpose bumping into him on the way. She stops in her tracks and looks over her shoulder to look at him. “You know, if I do get the job, we could always start over. I’m not usually this much of a dick. And I don’t think you are either.”

He rolls his eyes again, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he responds, “Perhaps.”

**Author's Note:**

> [hey](https://bisexual-eponine.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
